


Rutson World Creation Services

by EmmaGhost181



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alcohol, Drinking, Epistolary, Gen, Science Fiction, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27007684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaGhost181/pseuds/EmmaGhost181
Summary: A hacked together file revealing the secrets of Rutson World Creation Services.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. Welcome to Our Lives!

**Welcome to Our Lives! ******

My name is Julia Anderson! I'm a mother of two, a teenage boy named Eric and a four-year-old girl named Gracie! I live on Level Five, Suite 22 if anyone wants to drop by for a visit! My husband Craig and I would be happy to have you. 

Life can get a little hectic with two kids on a ship endlessly flying through outer space with no sign of stopping and no help in sight, but we make do! Our love for each other keeps us warm and safe and we know that the employees of Rutson are doing their best! 

I have complete faith in Captain Harris to get us where we need to go. 

The Anderson family blog will provide tips, and tricks for new parents. I'm an old hand at this, so I know few things. 

First things first, do NOT allow your children to be fed by Rutson. You must visit the community garden on Level Three and pick the hand grown vegetables there. I know there's not much you can do about lunches Monday-Friday, as the children are fed lunch during their allotted education period, but all other meals must be fresh and organic. 

Number two! The educators at the Education Facility are great and intelligent, but you should still make sure to educate your children at home. Teach them the old ways. They're going to have to learn how to live on their own when we reach World 2.0. 

Number Three! As a parent, it is your job to teach your children the Doctrines of Rutson. 

1\. The self is nothing. 

2\. The many are plentiful. 

3\. Only the strong survive. 

You must not let your children become weak. You must never let your children become victims. 

Julia Anderson, signing off


	2. The Private Journal of Charles Harris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the private journal of Charles Harris, captain of the Falcon 282. 
> 
> Trigger Warning: Swearing, Alcohol, Implied Suicidal Ideation

October 17th, 2759

Captain Charles Harris here. The Rutson World Creation Services vessel known as Falcon 282 is currently traveling at reasonable speed towards World 2.0. I am...tired. I’m so tired.

I work on this ship, day in, day out. Nobody gives a fuck. Nobody cares about what I gave up to be here. To command this ship. To deal with these whiny, privileged idiots and their snot-nosed brats. 

I hate kids. I’ve always hated kids. 

Maria said we’d never have kids. She was laughing when she said it. Joking. She’d had a glass of wine. 

She was so..happy. Is that the right word, happy? I don’t know. What even is happiness? 

Maria...I left you behind. I left everyone behind. And for what? To steer a ship full of rich white assholes. 

Only the rich get to survive. They were the only ones who were offered this chance, the chance to leave Dead World and move on. Even though they’re the ones who killed the planet in the first place. Stupid bastards.

I hate them. I always hate them, but it’s worse when I’ve had something to drink. I know I shouldn't be drinking, given that I am the captain of a spaceship with hundreds of people abroad, but sometimes I need a break from being “Captain Harris”. 

Maybe that’s selfish. Does Superman ever get tired of being Superman? 

He probably does. I’ve never read the comics. 

I’m so tired. Everyone on this ship is so stupid. 

Yesterday, some lady called Woodworth down because she was worried her kids weren’t getting proper nutrition. Woodworth has more important things to deal with than your stupid kids. 

Woodworth runs a quarter of this ship and she’s my second in command. If it wasn’t for her, I don’t know what I’d do. 

Actually, I do know what I’d do. I’d blow my goddamn brains out. 

I’d probably do that anyway if I didn’t have so many people relying on me. Depending on me. Forcing their problems down my throat. 

I’m so tired. I think I need to go to bed.

Captain Charles Harris, signing off.


End file.
